


Your Favorite Slave

by moodwriter



Series: Owning Me, Owning You [3]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Promises are for sissies.</i> A sequel to Shed Your Armor & Owning Me, Owning You.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Favorite Slave

_I'm hanging on your words,  
Living on your breath,  
Feeling with your skin.  
Will I always be here?_

_In your room your burning eyes  
Cause flames to arise.  
Will you let the fire die down soon,  
Or will I always be here?_

_Your favorite passion,  
Your favorite game,  
Your favorite mirror,  
Your favorite slave._

_In Your Room by Depeche Mode_

Tommy watches Adam as he does the necessary socializing backstage, and wonders how Adam feels about the lyric fail in Fever. They didn't have any time to talk about the changes they had to do to the usual stage play. And then Adam ended up saying only _sexual_ of all the words of that line. Tommy wants to smile but he keeps his face straight, tries to look bored and distant so nobody would even think that he's interesting company. 

He doesn't hate things like these. He's just not comfortable around people he doesn't know. It's that simple. It takes a little while for him to relax in a strange company, and these kind of gatherings never give him the chance to get to know the real person behind the mask they're wearing. 

Adam, on the other hand, knows exactly how to be, what to say, how to make the other person feel comfortable in his company. But he's very tired right now, and Tommy notices the tense line of his back, the way his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. Adam is trying to get away from the situation, but he can't yet. People want to talk to him, not just to gain something, but to actually get the chance to talk with Adam Lambert, the rising star. 

The troupe has gone to the hotel already, but Tommy stayed behind. He's not sure why. It's not like he gets to spend any time with Adam. He's sitting at the bar, waiting, watching, wondering. He can still feel the mark on his shoulder, Adam's teeth marks, the red circle he sucked into his flesh. He wants to know what it means. He knows what it implies, but it's not the same. He needs Adam to spell it out because this is something that causes hyperventilation and palpitation. Again, he wants to smile, but keeps it in. These are private things, and he doesn't want to share any of it, not yet.

"Oh, you're Adam's guitarist," someone says next to him, a woman. He turns to look at her, not pleased at all. He wants to be left alone. "You're so cute. I love the way you look at him, even now."

He doesn't understand why people feel like they can say all kinds of odd things to him just because he stands on stage every now and then. He just stares, hoping she would disappear. 

Unfortunately she doesn't. And apparently she's a bit drunk, in her thirties, and dressed like a fifteen-year-old girl. "Are you his boy toy?" she asks, whispering conspiratorially. 

Tommy is too stunned to say anything, but his lip curls. God, he hates situations like this. Especially now. He calms himself down, thinking quickly. "I didn't catch your name," he says. "I'm Tommy." He extends his hand, and she takes it, a dumbfounded expression on her face. She actually blushes a little before saying, "I'm Susan. Nice to meet you."

He nods, then takes a sip from his beer. "Do you like it here?" he asks, just to take the situation to a normal level and let her get over her embarrassment. 

She sits down a bit sloppily. "Kinda," she says. "It's my first time in a place like this, and I just... Sorry."

He smiles. "It's okay." He can make people feel at ease too, but it doesn't come naturally to him like it does to Adam. He often doesn't want to do it because it takes so much energy out of him. 

"I'm his assistant," she points at a well-dressed guy Tommy knows nothing about. "Two weeks, and I'm ready to give up." She gives him a brilliant smile, and he doesn't hate her guts any more. "This is just so not my thing. I think I'm a walking talking inappropriate disaster."

"Yeah... but who isn't sometimes."

"God, I'm sorry... But I'm such a huge fan of his." She points at Adam, and the whole pointing thing is inappropriate as well. "And I just forget sometimes that you can hear me."

He can't believe he's having this conversation. 

"But you two are just so gorgeous together."

"I'm his bassist, by the way," he says so he can steer the conversation to safer grounds again. 

Her stare is blank. "Oh, sorry. Of course you are. But you're multitalented."

God, she really is a disaster. He actually laughs at that. 

"And you should definitely smile more. You have the prettiest smile ever."

Tommy hopes Adam is ready soon. Otherwise he'll be hearing all kinds of funky truths he's sure he doesn't want to know anything about. "Thank you," he says because it's the only thing he can think of that sounds even remotely normal. Then he wishes the earth would swallow him because she says, "He pulls the prettiest smiles out of you."

He can say nothing to that. God damn it. He's so bad at hiding his feelings. He has to learn to do it, or he'll be doomed to fangirl squeeing for the rest of his life. 

Adam walks across the room to him. There's a softer, kinder, warmer look on his face now that he's directing his attention to Tommy. It makes his skin tingle. 

He hopes Adam notices the woman next to him before he says anything, but he should know by now how observant Adam is. His smile stays genuine, but there's distance in him that wasn't there a moment ago. "I'm ready to go," he says, stopping in front of Tommy and Susan. 

"Hi," Susan says, and Tommy hopes she keeps her other thoughts to herself. "Can I get your autograph, please." There are stars in her eyes. 

"Sure," Adam says, and takes her pen. She wants him to write it on her forearm, and he does that. 

When they are about to leave she says something to Adam, something Tommy can't hear, and then winks at Tommy. 

He so wants to get out of there. 

A car is waiting for them in the garage. Adam sits next to him, and tells the driver the name of their hotel. They are not touching, and for the entire ride to the hotel Adam stays quiet. 

He nods when Tommy asks if he's hungry. That's all. 

Tommy isn't sure what it means, but there's anticipation in his blood now. He wants to reach out and touch Adam's hand, have some kind of a connection between them, but he doesn't dare. Adam clearly wants to be left alone; he's not even looking at Tommy, just staring out the window, hands crossed in his lap. 

Maybe the woman said something that upset him.

Once they get into the elevator of the hotel Adam finally looks at him. "Get your stuff from your room, okay?"

It's still a question. It sounds like an order, but Adam looks like he's expecting a no for an answer. He nods because right now, he doesn't trust his voice one bit. Adam lets out a sigh of relief, and leans against the elevator wall, closing his eyes. He looks so exhausted. 

Before he leaves he strokes Adam's arm a few times to let him know that everything is alright. Adam's smile is almost nonexistent, but he can still see it at the corners of his eyes. 

He practically runs to his room, pulls his stuff together (sometimes he truly hates being messy), and gets back to the elevator. He’s standing behind Adam’s door before he can even think of what he’s getting into. He can feel his blood rushing, and his heart is in his throat. He can’t knock on the door. He’s too jittery. 

Tommy sits on his carry-on bag, hoping that nobody comes to view. It would look rather strange to an outsider, him sitting there, breathing hard, knees shaking. 

The door opens, and Adam looks at him, laughter in his eyes. He's wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt, and sweatpants, his feet bare. “Come in,” he says. 

Tommy gets up slowly, and lets Adam pull him in, his bag following behind. 

Adam hugs him, holds him close for a long while until all stress leaves his body and he relaxes against Adam. Even after that Adam won’t let him go. 

Nobody has ever hugged him like that, like he’s the most precious person in the world, like there’s no need to move ever. People rush out of hugs, and he often doesn’t want to let go. It feels so good. 

“I’ll put you in my pocket, and keep you there forever,” Adam finally says. 

He laughs because it’s just too sweet and mushy. Adam puts his chin on top of Tommy’s head, and it’s a bit too much. He tries to pull away, but Adam won’t let him. “No, don’t go. I want to fall asleep like this.”

“Standing? Me still wearing my boots? Adam.” 

“We can do that.”

“You’re crazy.”

Adam nods, and it feels odd to Tommy because his head is still under Adam’s. “Your fault,” Adam mumbles.

“You’re tired.”

“Yeah…”

His heart swells in his chest, so full of love he doesn’t know what to do with it. A part of him wants to walk out of that door, keep his boots on, put something between them, something solid and heavy and impenetrable, something that would keep him safe. “Are you ever going to let me go?” he asks, loosening his hold on Adam. 

He can feel Adam’s laughter, the soft rumble, the way it shakes his body. “I’m waiting for the vines to grow,” he says next to Tommy’s ear, kissing his earlobe.

Tommy breathes in Adam’s scent, hides his face into Adam’s neck. He should let go. They should talk. He doesn’t want to. _Let the freaking vines grow._

Adam pushes him forward, walks with him, guides him to the other end of the room. He has no idea what Adam wants, but then he feels Adam lean sideways and he looks down, sees Adam fiddle with his laptop. He puts some music on. 

When he hears the first notes he looks at Adam. “Really? Elvis?”

“Don’t mock the King. I love this song.” Adam forces him to move with the music, and they are actually dancing. Adam doesn’t sing along, which is the only thing that stops Tommy from running away. The lyrics are bad enough. 

_Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you._

“Just kill me now,” he says to Adam. 

“You love it. Just admit it.” There’s so much mirth in Adam’s words Tommy has no idea what he’s thinking.

Of course he loves it. Every crazy thing Adam does feels good because it’s him, and because there’s no pretense there. He’s also pretty sure what’s going on. “You want to woo me,” he says, smiling against Adam’s shirt.

“I love how you read my mind.” 

“Dinner out next?” he asks. 

“In, actually. I ordered food from room service.”

He laughs. What else can he do? “Just don’t feed me,” he finally says. 

“Don’t give me ideas then.”

There’s a knock on the door, and reluctantly, Adam pushes him to an arm’s length, then lets go and walks to the door. Tommy takes off his shoes and jacket, fidgeting, not sure what to do with his hands now that they’re not around Adam. He feels strange, like his feet aren’t touching the ground, like gravity can’t quite hold on to him unless Adam is there. 

He shakes his head, pushes the thoughts out of his mind, and sits on the bed, hugging one of the bedposts. God damn, it’s one of those fancy rooms with a four poster bed and thick velvet curtains. 

Adam comes back with a serving cart full of food that smells wonderful. They eat, sitting on the bed, looking at each other but not talking. Tommy likes this kind of silence. It gives him room to observe things, like the way Adam brushes his hair back every now and then, or how he taps his fingers against his thigh, looking for a new satisfying rhythm. Adam doesn't mind that he stares, doesn't ask why, just tilts his head and smirks. Because he knows why. 

He's not sure if it's just another game, or if it's something more. Probably more because his hand finds the mark on his shoulder, and because Adam's eyes grow darker when they follow the movement. 

Tommy stops, lets his hand fall into his lap because drawing Adam's attention to the mark is a bad idea. He's not ready for any of this. Yet, here he is, sitting on Adam's bed, eating, flirting, giving away too much of himself. He closes his eyes because the room feels too heavy all of a sudden. He can't breathe properly.

"You have gorgeous lips," Adam says, closer than a moment ago. Tommy can feel the heat of his body, how it mixes with his own. Adam takes the plate from his hand, and puts it away because clearly there's something more important to do than eating. 

He's kissed Adam countless of times, on and off stage. The kiss they shared just before today's gig was theirs only, something mutual and solid, some kind of a promise. And he's definitely not a blushing virgin, but still, he can't open his eyes, can't look at Adam, can't stop himself from tensing when Adam puts a hand on his shoulder. 

"What are you thinking?" Adam asks, soft but stern. 

He has no idea what he's thinking because he's blocking all thoughts. He doesn't want to think. 

"Okay," Adam says. Tommy can feel him moving away, but his hand slides down Tommy's arm, capturing his hand. "Come here."

He lets Adam pull him up and away from the bed, lets himself be guided somewhere. He trusts Adam so he keeps his eyes closed. 

"Brush your teeth. I'll take a shower after that."

He looks at Adam, at their outstretched hands between them, and then the modern bathroom with a huge bathtub and lime-green textiles. He bursts out laughing. "What are we doing?" He feels slightly hysterical, and Adam sees it in his eyes. 

"Apparently we're sleeping tonight," Adam says with a grin. "Brush your teeth. We can talk later." Adam leaves him alone, and he turns to face the mirror, leaning against the sink, knuckles turning white as he holds on. He grits his teeth, tries to pull himself together. He knows why this is hard. 

Tommy takes one of the complimentary toothbrushes, opens its container, and brushes his teeth. He's taking his sweet time, washing his face too, cleaning off all the make-up. Then, because he still doesn't want to go back to the bedroom, he locks the door, takes off his clothes, and steps into the bathtub. 

It doesn't come as a surprise that nothing can make him feel less tense. He takes a quick shower, then wraps himself into a huge towel and looks at himself from the mirror. His hair is flat against his head, and his eyes are wide, brown pools of get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here. 

"Shit," he says just to fill the room with something other than the smell of his fear. He's so fucking pathetic it's almost funny. He dries himself, puts his clothes back on, and then stands in front of the closed door for a long while. 

"Are you ever coming out?" Adam asks from the other side, and he jumps, surprised. 

He turns the door handle, unlocking the door, and Adam pulls the door open, eyes fixed on him. 

"Sorry," he says, avoiding Adam's gaze. 

"What's going on? Do you want to leave?"

It would be a perfectly easy solution. He knows it wouldn't solve anything. "It's not that."

"What is it then?" Adam pulls him out of the bathroom, keeps him close but not too close.

How can he explain any of it? He takes Adam's hand and puts it on top of the mark. "This. It's not just physical. You own me. I can't control that. I can't stop you. There's no balance here. You could do anything, and I couldn't stop you."

"What?"

He looks at Adam, stares into his eyes. "You have too much power over me. I can't... I don't want that to define us. I don't want to be a slave to you."

Adam steps back, pulls free. "I don't understand. I don't... That's not what I want."

"I know," he says, frustrated as hell. "I know, okay. But I can't help it. Everything you do affects me. I want to please you, be whatever you want me to be. I don't want that. I don't want... God." He doubles over, leaning against his thighs. "It could easily turn into that. You have no idea how much..."

"You do realize I love you?"

Tommy looks up, then moves too fast, too hastily, and manages to lose his balance. He falls forward, and Adam catches him, but can't hold them upright. They fall in a heap of arms and legs, all air crushing out of Adam's chest. 

For a moment Adam tries to cough but no sound comes out of his mouth. Then he pulls in a shuddering breath, and says, "God... that hurt." 

Tommy is still too stunned to say anything, but he tries to get up. He doesn't want to cause more harm.

Adam takes hold of his arms, sparks in his eyes. "Don't go." He sounds broken and raspy, but audible enough.

He hesitates, then puts his chin on top Adam's chest. He likes it there, his arms at Adam's sides and his legs spread on either side of Adam's thighs. For some reason he feels more at peace when he's this close to Adam. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"But honestly," Adam says, his voice normal again. "I don't mind strange or difficult. Strange is good. I thought you knew that." The last part doesn't sound like an accusation even though it easily could have. Adam is genuinely surprised. 

"Maybe it's too strange for me."

"Is it?" 

"This isn't."

Adam's smile is quirky. "You like it?"

Tommy moves his hips just a little, playful and bold, liking the way Adam tilts his head back, mouth slightly open, eyes closing. "I think you like it."

Adam nods, then puts his hands on Tommy's waist, holding him there. 

"All this..." Tommy wants Adam to know that what they have between them is not the problem at all. He just doesn't know how to explain it. "I can live with it. This feels good, strange maybe but good. It's not that different. But..."

"You don't want to lose yourself."

He lifts his head up, looks at Adam. He sees that same feeling in Adam's eyes, the one he saw in the mirror just moments ago: _get me the fuck out of here_.

"You're not the only one. How many times do I have to tell you that?" 

Tommy moves on top of Adam, gets himself close enough so he can put his fingers in Adam's hair. "You're stronger than I am," he finally says.

"You really think so?"

"I know so," he says. "You've thought about so many things. You've seen and experienced things. You know yourself through and through. You've had more time to put these pieces together." He pauses, then chooses to say all of it. "I lived a narrow life before. It was full, and it was interesting, and I was happy. But I'm different now, and things will change even more. I feel like I'm looking at something that's on a mountain top. I can never get there."

Adam sighs. Tommy sees how tired he really is. They need to go to sleep. "I don't care how... unfinished you are," Adam says. "It's a part of your charm."

Tommy smiles at that, then kisses Adam's chin. "I like that."

"And really, you give me too much credit. I'm not that... wise or cool or whatever. Mostly I'm just energetic."

"Not now, though," Tommy says next to his jaw. 

"No," Adam admits, yawning.

"Up, then. Up." Tommy sits on Adam's stomach, then stands up and pulls Adam with him. "Go to shower. We can talk tomorrow."

Adam looks like he wants to protest but then decides against it. Shower is a pretty damn good idea after a long day in make-up and an hour under the stage lights. "Come with me," Adam says, then looks like he wishes he hadn't. "I meant... to keep me company."

Tommy laughs. "Sure you did."

"Seriously. I have a big mouth."

"I've noticed. You can fit your microphone in it."

Adam looks at him with a stupefied expression, then lets go, laughing so hard he doubles over. "Oh my god..."

Tommy pats Adam's back, feeling a little sorry for him. "I'll keep you company. I don't want you to drown."

It takes a little while for Adam to calm down, but when he does he seems more relaxed, his eyes less tired and his smile so genuine he looks years younger.

They lean on each other as they slowly walk to the bathroom, Adam's back still a little stiff from the fall. He wants to tease Adam about getting old, but he holds his tongue, smiling to himself. 

Tommy sits on the toilet bowl and watches as Adam takes his clothes off, neither of them questioning this in any way. 

He loves the curve of Adam's back, his long legs, the way he's more lean than muscular. And his bare feet are beautiful. Tommy likes the view, likes the fact that Adam doesn't try to cover himself in anyway, lets Tommy look. "You have a gorgeous ass," he says because he can. 

"Thank you." Adam looks down, trying to hide the fact that the compliment makes him blush. 

Tommy finds it adorable, and he wants to touch Adam, wants to put his fingers under Adam's chin and tilt his head up. Instead, he leans on his thighs, rest his chin against his hands, waits. 

Adam puts the shower on before he steps into the bathtub. He doesn't want cold water on his feet, and Tommy can't help the sweet burning in his chest. He loves this person. 

The water running down Adam's body makes him think of obscene things, makes him want to lick Adam's skin all over. It's interesting how little that bothers him. 

"You're supposed to say something," Adam reminds him. "You're keeping me company so I won't fall asleep and drown."

"I want to lick your skin," he says without thinking. 

Adam looks at him over his shoulder. "Keep talking." There's an evil glint in his eyes.

Tommy bites his lower lip, then says, "Why isn't this any different?"

"Because we're just people." Adam sounds matter-of-fact. It's so simple, yet it's the truth. 

He knows he should probably keep some things to himself, but the situation requires honesty, and Adam is just too alluring to be ignored. "Watching you turns me on," he says, sounding raw and true. "You're beautiful."

Adam lets out a gorgeous laugh that does interesting things to Tommy's insides. He shifts a little, his pants feeling uncomfortable. 

"I'm glad," Adam says, soaping his body, touching himself slowly, teasingly. "I'm glad I can do that to you."

"Can I wash your hair?" Tommy asks before he chickens out. 

Adam turns toward him, hands resting on his stomach, lots of soap everywhere. He nods, then tips his head back to get his hair wet. 

Tommy isn't sure how good this idea is, but he gets up anyway and walks closer to Adam. He kneels beside the bathtub, and Adam lies down, head resting against the end of the tub. 

He takes Adam's toilet case, finds his shampoo, and pours lots of it on his hands. His hands are shaking, but he doesn't care. He wants to do this. This and every other thing they could ever do as a couple. Everything. 

Adam's eyes fall shut when Tommy's hands start massaging his scalp. Adam's make-up is running, black circles under his eyes and black stripes coloring his cheeks, but he still looks gorgeous to Tommy. Maybe even more so because he's imperfect and because right now, he's completely at his mercy. Adam trusts him. This revelation is earth-shattering. 

He leans closer, and kisses Adam's forehead, not caring that he tastes like shampoo. "Thank you."

"For what?" Adam is almost purring in his hands, so relaxed and happy. 

"I don't know. For being you."

Adam smiles. "Easy. I can be nobody else." 

It rings true to him, and it's so Adam. "I'm glad you can't."

He doesn't want to stop touching Adam so washing his hair takes a very long time, and Adam, he doesn't mind at all. 

Tommy can't think of a moment when he has been happier than right now. It's a bit silly, and it makes him emotional, but that's just how it is. Being here with Adam, being a part of his life means more to him than anything ever before. They've created something together, long before they even had what they have now. 

"I love you," he says, just loud enough for Adam to hear. 

Adam opens his eyes, looks at him for a moment, then grabs the back of his neck, and pulls him closer. The kiss is nothing but heat, Adam's lips wet and slippery, and Adam won't let him move an inch. The hand at the nape of his neck spreads wider, takes a better hold of him, and Adam sits up, turning to face him. His other hand finds Tommy's arm, fingers digging into Tommy's flesh.

Adam's influence spreads through his blood like quicksilver, fast, relentless, unyielding. His hands are grasping the side of the bathtub, and it's the only solid thing keeping him connected to reality. The ceramic surface is cold against his skin, a complete opposite to the warmth of Adam's mouth. 

It becomes too much, and he pulls away, falling on his butt, staring at Adam, panting. He can feel something between them, something that's tying him to Adam, and it scares him. Adam's eyes are huge, his lips slightly swollen, and Tommy knows they are mirror images of each other. "I told you," he says.

Adam says nothing, just stands up and washes all the soap and shampoo off, looking at Tommy intently. When he steps out of the bathtub Tommy hands him a towel, and he takes it, smiling. "I like it," he says, kissing the side of Tommy's head. "We're a bit special," he whispers in Tommy's ear. "It makes this even better."

He takes hold of Adam because his legs won't carry him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he feels annoyed about it, but the wonderful smell of Adam's skin distracts him enough to ignore it. He sees lots of freckles, and he's pleased by the amount of naked skin before him. He kisses Adam's neck, licks a trail down his shoulder to his collar bone, appreciating the feel of it.

Adam wraps the towel around his waist, and then puts his arms around Tommy. When he speaks the words are breathless and weak. "I don't care how this works out. I just want it to work."

Tommy nods, biting and licking Adam's skin, satisfied, happy, almost humming. There are freckles everywhere, and he just wants to map them out with his tongue. 

"We're not sleeping tonight if you continue to do that."

He bites Adam's nipple, then licks it, loves the sound it pulls out of Adam. He can feel Adam getting hard since there's nothing much restraining him. He feels powerful all of a sudden, like he can do anything, like Adam would let him do anything because there's trust here, because he's Adam's counterpart. 

He pulls Adam's head down, kisses him with everything he has, all that love, lust and strange possessiveness they have for each other. It's different and it's the same and he lets himself get lost in it. Adam will bring him back if needed.

Adam's hands force him closer, almost crushing his breath away, roaming freely along his body, not apologizing for their roughness at all. He wants more, can't get enough no matter how much Adam gives him, how much he takes. He bites Adam's lower lip, then his jaw. "Don't you fucking dare to stop," he whispers in Adam's ear. 

It's the right thing to say because Adam starts to walk them back to the bedroom, holding Tommy close, kissing him and then kissing him some more, needy and dominant. 

Tommy lets Adam push him down on the bed, lets him pull his shirt over his head, and open the button and the zipper of his pants. Adam's fingers tickle his stomach when they snake under the waistband of his briefs, sliding over the trail of hair there. His back moves on its own, arching, lifting off the bed, and he wants it so bad he cries out. "Please." It's all kinds of broken, but it doesn't matter. Adam steals it from his lips anyway, kissing him, touching him lightly with his lips. "Want me to touch you?" he asks, kissing the side of his mouth. 

He nods, barely noticing that Adam is lying on his side, a knee between his thighs, a hand pushing at Tommy's knee, spreading his legs. "God, you're..."

Tommy wants to get rid of his clothes, pushes at his pants, and Adam gets it, helps him out of them. The air is cool, and Adam slides his hand against the goose bumps on his thigh, fascinated. Then without warning, he takes Tommy's cock in his hand, pumps it a few times, and Tommy loses it completely. He grips Adam's arm, just holds on because there's nothing else he can do. He feels so much he loses touch of himself, of reality, and lets Adam pull him into another world where there's nothing but sensation, nothing but his burning body, and Adam's tongue and Adam's fingertips that leave brands all over his body. He comes with a shuddering breath, his mind a tangled web of shattered thoughts. 

Adam nuzzles Tommy's neck, rests his full weight on him, waits patiently for Tommy to come around, to come back to him. 

He's shaking all over, but Adam's steady breathing calms him, pulls him back to here and now. 

"It's good, isn't it?" Adam asks, soft and quiet. 

He still can't speak, but he tries anyway. "You are."

Adam bites his chin, licks his lips, kisses the tip of his nose, and then stares into his eyes. He looks fierce with some of the make-up still smudged around his eyes. "I've got you."

Tommy knows what he means. No matter where this takes them, how thin it will stretch them, Adam will be there to catch him. He touches the side of Adam's face gently. "I know." He wants to say so much more, but there's no need. Right now, this is enough. 

"I want you to do something," Adam says after a while, sounding odd, somehow different. "I don't often..."

"What?" He's curious now.

"I want you to fuck me." Adam's eyes are sharp-blue, clear, open. 

Tommy's heartbeat quickens, follows his thought pattern, likes the images. He smiles. "You're doing this for me?" he says through that smile, happy beyond words. 

"You. Me. Us." Adam sounds pleased.

Adam knows him, knows how to handle him. That thought alone nearly ends him. This is what people look for all their lives. He's so grateful he found his. Home.

Tommy lifts his head up, kisses Adam full on the lips. "Anything for you, baby. Anything."

He thinks he knows how it feels, how it's done, how it's not so different, but it is. He can't believe how it makes him feel, how completely out of this world it is to him that Adam wraps his legs around him, pulls him closer, neck arching back, hands fisting the sheets. He's not ready for any of it. 

Adam lets him have everything, and it's just beyond anything he could have ever imagined. He's never been this close to anyone, this much a part of someone that there's nothing separating them. He loses himself into that feeling, into Adam, and lets go completely. 

When he becomes aware of his body again he feels like a lazy cat, comfortable and so satisfied he wants to just lie there forever. Adam is drawing something on his back, the touches gentle but somehow owning as well. 

He lifts his head up, and looks at Adam. Their smiles are matching. He touches Adam's lower lip with his fingertip, pulling it down a little, gently. He wants to laugh, and maybe cry a little, too, but nothing comes out. "You rock my world," he says instead. 

Adam kisses the tip of his finger, eyes full of warmth. "I can't wait to tell my mom about you," Adam says, a devilish little tone in his voice. 

It shocks Tommy, it stops everything, it breaks his soft bubble. It's fucking real. They are together. 

And he doesn't want anything else. It's so clear he stops breathing for a moment. Then he relaxes in Adam's arms, breathes quietly, safe. This is it. They can make it work. "I can't wait either. I want to see if she knew already."

Adam's laughter feels so good.

Th End


End file.
